Umbrage.
A Poem. Dreams. “A many a splendored thing.”
--
Getting wrapped up in our world where nothing is as it seems.
All same; still no peace.
“A dream is but a dream…”
On most occasions I wake…
Remembering but fragments of my dreams.
Retaining a mere 60 seconds — of my most charming, repressed, and oppressive treasury’s!
Obsessive* not oppressive.
I’ll leave my mistake.
Once again in means of my authenticity.
What’s happened subconsciously?
“Have you ever been awaken?”
Amidst a Dismal, yet ordinary Night—Seeking The Sandman or better yet craving. A most Tender of Incite.
An Impulsive Awakening…
By an unwavering Snatching of Delight. Blatantly Interrupted; surely forsaking, and
Roused by ones own insight …
“Why; Oh, Why have I arose?”
Being plucked out of a darling dream my conscience has abruptly impose d!
Dreaming to Excite. Waking to Entice?
Watching ones riddles unfold; fast asleep, each evening, despite, tonight…
These evenings; few and far between — Recent Infernal Intervals. Could it be? My mind is pulling a Slight?
Surely, I must be mistaken! It isn’t worth it to be right! No! It must have been the Raven! My senses taking flight! A thug committing a break in! No forced entry; nothing is missing — nothing has been taken!
Feeling a shiver down my spine, though I am unshaken.
I can’t help but think, somehow, my mind woke me out of Spite!
Seems to me a product of my plenty lucid dreams partaken.
Going to have to try to Over-Ride — Now my Hands are Shaking.
Our minds are playing games with us… Vaguely Rolling Dice!
Plight!
Unknowingly, and Surprised…
I mull over, “Am I being Chastised..?”
